


To Cast Away Shadow

by eveshka



Series: The Dawn King Cycle [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE SPOILED, Dawn King Cycle, Drama, Gen, Gladio is an ass, Here There Be Spoilers, Language, endgame spoilers, you should know this by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveshka/pseuds/eveshka
Summary: This isn't a story about what happens in-game. This is a story about what happens after. It starts with a spoiler, and it just keeps going.Gladio, Gladio, Gladio.





	1. Chapter One

As a young child, Gladiolus Amicitia had been afraid of the dark. Daemons and monsters lived there. The dark was evil; the dark would eat you. The sun didn’t shine in the dark. He wouldn’t even walk in a shadow, skirting around it in the puddles of light like a cat. Cats were smart. They liked the sun, so as a result, Gladiolus liked cats too.

When Iris Amicitia was born, Gladiolus swore that the darkness would stay away from her. He’d fight it back if he had to, with everything in his power. When you’re eight, you can swear things like that.

The day fifteen-year-old Gladiolus met Noctis Lucis Caelum, he reaffirmed that vow. And as ‘Noctis’ meant night, Gladiolus intended to keep the prince as far away from his sister as humanly possible.

It didn’t help when Iris and Noctis both vanished.

 

In time, he learned the truth, and warmed to the boy prince, eventually being won over to his side not by Noctis’ cheerful nature. It took his friend’s stalwart belief that Noctis was more than a spoiled brat, and learning to see him through Ignis’ eyes.

Eyes that stopped seeing the light and brought darkness crashing around Gladio with a deadly finality.

You see, Gladiolus Amicitia’s problem wasn’t that he didn’t care. He cared too damn much.

 

A warrior, no. A Shield, that’s better. Didn’t care. Couldn’t. Caring meant you might get tangled up in an emotion and find yourself flat on your mental face while your dumbass companion of a King was off getting his ass beat by some six-damned Midgardsormr. Or worse.

 “Gladio, do it!”

 _Do it? What it? Oh, shit._ He channeled his rage into a spiraling sweep of his sword, leaping into the air to land on the whatever it was and heard Noctis whoop in triumph. “Great job, Gladio.” _It was? Cool. Thing isn’t dead yet._ The sword swung again, and the head rolled away. _Now it’s dead._

But the creatures just kept coming. “We’re getting nowhere!”

“And they just keep coming.”

Ignis called out from across the area, his voice as clear as his eyes were not. “Noct, you must go on alone.”

“What?” The grunt of disbelief was accompanied by the younger man warp-striking something in the near distance, then vanishing again across the room in a flash of blue.

“If you can obtain the Crystal’s power, we may yet be able to turn the tide. Elswise, we are all like to perish here.”

“Iggy’s right. It’s our only chance,” Gladio hated to say it, hated to condemn them all to the neverending onslaught of daemons without the benefit of Noctis’ warping, but if the blood of the Lucii could get to the Crystal’s power…

“But what about you?” Noctis clearly didn’t like the idea, though Gladio could hear his voice moving farther away. Good. About time he listened to someone rational.

“We’ll manage somehow! Just get moving!”

Noctis half-ran, half-warped for the elevator in the back of the hangar, and Gladio moved to keep an eye on him. If he needed to head off a daemon so Noctis could get free, he’d do it.

Gladio had no idea it would be the last time he laid eyes on his prince.

 

 

It didn’t make any sense, how everything melted into nothingness. One second they were fighting a mass of daemons and then the next, they were standing there, alone together in an empty room. Prompto grabbed Ignis and ran for the elevator. “Come on, he went this way! We can still catch up!”

They hustled through corridors, Ignis’ lips thin with the effort of not reacting and just trusting Prompto as they hurried towards the end of this very long and half insane road. Once they regrouped with Noctis, they could figure out how the Crystal’s power worked, and put an end to this incursion of daemons once and for all.

 

Standing there beside the quiet Crystal, watching the back of a creature that Gladio was absolutely positive should be dead three times over, the only thing the swordsman could think was that they were well and truly screwed.

A noise made him turn, and he boggled as he saw Prompto reach up to hitch himself into to opening of the Crystal, sticking his head as far in as possible. “There’s nothing here… what the hell did Ardyn mean? Where the hell is Noctis?”

A rumbling sound echoed below them, and Ignis spoke up. “Prompto, never mind that, we have company.” His lance appeared at the ready, and Gladio grunted. If weapons were still in the armiger, that meant Noctis was still alive.

This battle was worse than the one in the hangar. At least there, they’d had room to move around. Prompto was perched on the Crystal, shooting things from above while Gladio and Ignis moved around the catwalk as best they could, but they were bumping into each other far more than Gladio liked, and who knew when Ignis was going to walk into Prompto’s line of fire?

“We must get out of here. This isn’t going to end and we won’t survive if we stay buttoned up in here.”

Gladio didn’t want to leave, but had to admit that Ignis had a point. “Iggy’s right. We can’t stay here. Prompto, get down and help clear the path.

“But what about the Crystal?” Prompto asked, landing next to Gladio and casting a look back towards Ignis. “If Noct is in there, shouldn’t we try to take it with us?”

“The appropriate question is _‘how’_ would we, Prompto.” Ignis replied, tapping the Crystal with his cane. “I’d surmise this weighs equal to the Regalia, and while Gladio’s muscles are, I’d imagine, still impressive, the fact remains that three could barely move the Regalia, let alone a Crystal not on wheels.”

“We’ll come back when we’re better prepared. Find Aranea and use her jumpship.” Gladio swung his sword through an imp that had gotten too close for comfort. “Prompto, try taking them out a little further away, would you? Here, you take point. Iggy, fall in behind him. Don’t argue.”

Ignis closed his mouth and allowed Prompto to slip past him before gliding into position and following the slow progression of the blond gunner. And it was slow going, at first. Once they got out into the open, it was easier to move, and eventually they spread out to clear the way faster.

Prompto kept charging ahead, and Gladio’s temper frayed the more and more he had to call the younger man back. “Prompto, get your ass back here. Don’t leave us exposed like that,” he said, ducking an attack from an MT, then kicking it backwards to slice its head off with his broadsword. “Things are getting a little too close to Ignis and me.”

 

Five minutes later, Gladio felled another two MTs that had tried to grab Ignis, seeing that Prompto was on the far side of the room. “Damn you, Prompto, get your ass in line!” At this rate, Gladio and Ignis would be fighting against overwhelming odds on their own while Prompto got himself killed. The younger man was moving methodically, almost mechanically, as he went, and he wasn’t even trying to avoid getting in combat.

 

Another few areas and Prompto was out of the room, halfway down the corridor when an MT leapt out at him. As Gladio watched from the doorway, opening his mouth to shout a warning, Prompto raised his gun and shot the thing in what would have been the face. The blond hadn’t even looked. Just lifted his weapon and fired. A cold pit formed in Gladio’s stomach. What if that had been Noctis?

“PROMPTO!” Gladio roared, cold rage filling his voice.

The thin blond gunner stopped moving, standing on alert, watching the area with a quick moving blue gaze before turning and looking back to see Gladio near and Ignis far down the corridor. Alarm crept into those blue eyes, and Prompto raised a pistol, firing past Gladio without so much as flinching.

The MT that had been reaching for Ignis fell to the ground.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND?” Gladio roared, almost in Prompto’s face. The younger man didn’t even twitch, and that just made Gladio even angrier. “You could have gotten us killed. I looked back and you were pointing that thing at me and I damn near killed you myself. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Prompto blinked at him, and then looked back to Ignis, watching the blind man pick his way over the remnants of the MTs that had fallen to the firepower in Prompto’s hands. “I was clearing the way.” That voice, usually so bright with emotion, was flat and empty.

He didn’t even sound like himself, and Gladio grabbed the blond by both shoulders and shook him so violently that his teeth clacked. “Get your shit together Prompto. If you’re turning into one of those MT things, you had damned well better tell me now.” The unspoken ‘so I can deal with you’ hung in the air.

Ignis drew up short with a hushed “Gladio!” under his breath, and then silence fell.

Prompto’s gaze turned cold as he leveled it on the bigger man. “Fuck. You. Too.” A pale hand lifted, knocking Gladio’s larger grip away from his shoulder, and Prompto turned away from Gladio and walked down the corridor, spine straight and head high.


	2. Chapter Two

To call resting that night 'awkward' an 'understatement' would be a _glorious_ understatement. They holed up in one of the bunker rooms, the silence stretching between them. Prompto hadn’t spoken since his eloquent rebuttal to Gladio, and the swordsman was okay with that. Ignis had offered fewer words perhaps than normal, but the retreat was arduous and his handicap had made it all the more difficult.

“I’ll take first watch,” Gladio said quietly. “Iggy, you take the bottom bunk and try to get some rest.” He looked up to see Prompto perched on the top bunk, already breaking down his pistols wordlessly, and turned away with nothing to say.

The metal chair was picked up, spun away from the door, and Gladio straddled it, resting his arms against the top of the back. He was aware that it put his back to Prompto and Ignis, and if Prompto wanted to do anything, the strategist wouldn’t see it. And maybe he only did it because the blond gunner had shown the guts to stand up to him so couldn’t be all that lost to a nature not entirely his own.

And yeah, he had probably gone too far. But he had turned and looked up, seeing the gun aimed and nothing in the blond’s face. As if the darkness they’d been fighting had somehow moved into Prompto and replaced the bright photographer. It had terrified him, and the relief that the gunner had been firing on something behind him had been palpable. He’d mouthed off as a result, and yeah, he deserved what he got.

He wasn’t sure Prompto would ever forgive him. He wasn’t sure he deserved forgiveness. But if they all got out of here in one piece, he’d deal with the aftermath… after.

 

Gladio jolted awake to the sharp and sudden sound of a gun being cocked. He didn’t remember growing tired enough to rest his head on the back of the chair, but it must have happened because that’s where his head was. Before he could open his mouth and ask what the hell was going on, Prompto’s voice came to his ears in less than a whisper. “Two MTs outside the door. They haven’t tried it yet but this door won’t take much.”

The warrior grunted faintly, and sat, listening. Waiting. Finally, just as Gladio’s nerves started to fray from listening, there were clumping sounds, the heavy drone of mechanical steps taking the two MTs off and away from the small room where the three men rested. After another few minutes, Gladio heard the gunner release the tension on his weapon with a soft sound.

Several more minutes passed before Gladio stood and stretched out his neck, fighting off the stiffness that had moved in while he slept. “Did they wake you up?” Perhaps if he spoke to Prompto in a normal fashion, it would make the necessary apology easier.

“Haven’t slept,” Prompto replied, his voice still as soft as before. He shifted on the bed, and Gladio looked up at him reflexively. The young blond looked like hell, bruises and red angry welts visible all over his body. Testaments to his suffering at the hands of Ardyn. The swordsman shifted his weight and looked away.

“Look, Prompto-”

“Save it. Don’t care. We get out of here, I’m done. Do what you want. I can’t do this anymore.” Gladio heard Prompto shift on the bed again, and when he looked back, the blond had laid down with his back to the door. The conversation was clearly over, and Gladio decided not to press it. Too much risk of waking Ignis, unless he was awake.

Two steps brought him near Ignis’ bed, and he crouched down to check on the man. No, the day had been rough on Ignis, and the strategist was lost to sleep. _Good, he needs rest. Six alone know how little sleep he subsisted on before. Probably due to all that Ebony._ He shifted away lest his presence filter through the dreamscape and wake the other man.

At a lack of ability to read, Gladio carefully moved the chair, and began doing pushups. Fifty with both arms, then fifty on one, followed by fifty on the other. He couldn’t do the clapping pushups; it would make noise, so instead, he switched up to squats and then sit-ups. By then, the endorphins had pushed away the loggy feeling that had clung to him since his impromptu nap.

Ignis stirred, a faint noise escaping him, followed by a sharp inhalation of breath and the desperate stillness of someone having awoken from a nightmare checking their surroundings. Gladio grunted through a sit-up simply for Ignis’ benefit, and then rose to his feet, speaking low. “You all right there, Iggy.” It wasn’t a question. “Didn’t mean to startle you; was just doing sit-ups.”

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis replied, voice equally soft. “How long have we rested?” He was sitting up, feeling around next to the bunk for his glasses, even though Gladio had told him they weren’t necessary. After all, Gladio had his own share of scars and didn’t think much of them himself.

“A few hours, not long. Prompto just turned in.”

“You crossed a line today.” The words sounded like an offhand observation, even though Gladio knew that Ignis meant them to be quite serious. “Further, I am uncertain that particular line can be _un_ -crossed.”

Gladio didn’t want to talk about it. “I appreciate the concern, Ignis, but this is neither the time nor the place. Try and get some more rest before we have to head out.” _And stop the well-intentioned but badly-timed butting in._

“I have slept enough for now. Take some rest yourself and I will keep…” Ignis paused, tilting his head as if in concession to something unspoken. “I will alert you if anything goes amiss.” He waved his hand towards the back of the room, clearly in an attempt to send Gladio to a bed.

“Yeah, okay. Wake me when Prompto wakes, and we’ll head out,” Gladio said, moving off to a bunk and collapsing onto it. The mattress was stale, but it beat the chair he’d napped in earlier, and almost as soon as his head hit the soft surface, he was out.

 

His dreams were broken, disjointed, a mess of daemons and fending off attacks from seemingly friendly faces. It had started with Ignis, drawing a line behind Gladio with his lance, a silent reproachful act before pointing past Gladio’s shoulder. The swordsman spun in time to call his shield and block the attack from a half-crazed Prompto who turned into Noctis mid-warp, and all the while Ardyn’s laugh echoed around him.

As he stood in his dream, Ignis, Prompto, and Noctis all stood there, pointing at the line behind him. The line where Ardyn stood, tipping his hat before turning to saunter away. But before Gladio could follow the Chancellor, a sound drew him back to the trio behind him. The trio of companions that had red eyes and jerky, mechanical movements as they approached him.

Before they could touch him, a hand grabbed his shoulder, and a voice rang clear through his head. “Gladio, it’s time.” Ignis. Ignis in the waking world, reaching through dreams to rouse him for the trip out of Gralea. “Prompto, a moment to get my bearings, if you will.” Again, Ignis buying him time. Even after everything that had happened, the strategist was still trying to hold the group together. Pity it wouldn’t work.

“Let’s get going then,” Gladio said as he rolled off the bunk. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes, so he was ready to go the moment his feet hit the floor. “Make it as far as we can, find another bunk and hole up. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some transport out of here.” A car would be great, a jumpship better. He couldn’t fly the thing, mind, but they had autopilot, right? Only one way to find out.

He took position at the door, and then palmed the device that opened it. The hallway was clear, so Gladio nodded. “Move it, it’s clear.” Prompto went first, Ignis trailing almost too close behind, and then Gladio followed, making sure the door closed behind them. No sense in giving away they’d been there. Leave no trace, leave no trail. Just keep moving forwards and try to get out alive.


	3. Chapter Three

The hallways were anything but quiet and calm. Every door was locked, and every time Prompto pressed his wrist to the box, Gladio felt his stomach roll. Prompto said nothing, just press and go. Behind each door was a fight to get to the next, at least two MTs lying in wait. 

*beep* *click* Another door opened, another battle to move twelve to fifteen feet. Six doors, seven, the hallways looked the same. Were they going in circles? They couldn’t be; every door was locked. How deep were they in this place? Ardyn had brought Gladio and Ignis in by way of a straight path, but damned if Gladio knew where that path was now.

*beep* *click* They fought their way through six MTs in a much longer hallway, ending at an elevator door. Prompto seemed to consider something, and then he hit the button to call the thing. It arrived, empty, and the trio entered cautiously, waiting for the bottom to drop, or for something to materialize inside it with them. Nothing did, and Prompto thumbed the button to take them down, then pressed his wrist against the box.

*beep*

Gladio was starting to hate that beep. It was pitched just right to set his teeth to grinding, and it only reminded him of what Prompto was. And wasn't. And he was really starting to hate Gralea more than he already did. This place was poison and they needed to get out as soon as possible.

 

They pushed on once the elevator stopped, curving corridors with painted numbers that told them what level they were on. Slowly, they spiraled around level three, coming to a door leading to stairs that indicated it opened to level two. Down the stairs they went, painfully slowly, as Ignis was clearly starting to tire. They needed to find somewhere safe to rest.

*beep* *click* Prompto opened the door, fired his weapons, and proceeded into the next area, looking for other enemies. Three more areas, rinse repeat. More beeps, more clicks. More fights and reminders of things that pissed Gladio off.

The lower they got, the harder they had to fight. It was as if they were following Ardyn and he was making it as difficult as possible to catch him by throwing more enemies in their path. Six MTs had been waiting in this room, and the room before that had been filled with daemons.

*beep* *click* Prompto led the way, stepping through the door and moving for the locked door at the other side of the room. He wasn't fighting, just standing there amidst the MTs and the daemons, and anger rose in Gladio again.

"Promoto, get your head back in the fight!" Gladio swung his sword, cutting through a daemon, and watched as a dagger flew into a different daemon nearby. Still Prompto stood at the door, motionless, back to the two men who were fighting. "Prompto!"

An MT was reaching for Prompto, had almost grabbed him when Gladio's blade lopped off the thing's arms and he kicked it away, down to the ground before driving the point of his broadsword into it. He turned to see Ignis dispatch the last daemon with his lance, and looked to Prompto, catching the younger man's arm before he could open the door. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Prompto stared at the door, angrily pulling his arm away from Gladio's grip. "I'm out of ammo so my only option is to try and get through until I can find a storage locker." He took a deep breath, and moved to unlock the door. "I know. I'm useless."

"Can you not switch to your secondary, Prompto?" Ignis said calmly as he approached the gunner standing by the door. "As I recall, you had quite the proficiency with the circular saw."

Blond hair shifted as Prompto lowered his head and looked to his hands. "Ardyn did... something. To me. I can't summon anything except those pistols. I've tried."

His words fell heavy in the room, and Ignis sighed softly. "Ah." As if that explained everything. After all, Noct's weapons were locked by an external source.

"Yeah. I'm just a key to unlock doors and let us get out of here. So let's just get moving, okay?" Prompto clearly didn't want to talk about it, because he slapped his wrist against the box and the beep was followed by the standard click and the door opened.

 

Fighting was a lot harder with just himself and Ignis, but they made it through the room and Gladio had never been so relieved to see the door marking a bunker room. "Let's kip out here for a while and get some rest. I'm beat." He wasn't, but he knew Ignis was exhausted and wouldn't likely say anything to either himself or Prompto.

"Okay, fine," Prompto said, and slapped his wrist on the access box, unlocking the door to the bunker room. Once they were inside, he slapped his wrist on the door again, half-turning. "I'm going to go look for some ammunition. This door has a hard lock, so throw it once I'm gone. When I get back..." He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. It was up to Gladio if he got back in, and it was clear Prompto figured he wouldn't get back in.

Gladio grunted and watched the blond leave. The door hadn't shut before Ignis sighed and sat on the lower bunk. "This is hard for all of us, Gladio, and I’m concerned that your temper is making things worse."

“You think I don’t know that, Iggy? You think I wanted to find out that he was born to be one of those things? That it doesn’t turn my stomach when I destroy one and have the thought that it could be him inside one of those metal shells?” Gladio was almost glad Ignis couldn’t see him throw the lock on the door and that just made things so much better, didn’t it? “Do you think I’m enjoying this?”

“To be honest, Gladio,” Ignis said quietly, almost too quietly. “I can’t tell. You’ve been on edge ever since Cartanica… no, ever since Altissia, and taking it out on everyone but me. And if you’re angry because I gave my elixirs away and had none for myself, then say it now and get it out there. I grow weary of being the behemoth in the room.”

And there it was. What everything boiled down to: Ignis’ inability to see. The strategist was right: if he had been uninjured, much of this might not have happened. But would haves and could haves weren’t going to get them out of this, and Gladio sank into a bunk with a grunt. “I won’t say it’s easy. Noct’s gone, you’re blind, Prompto’s… damaged, and the whole of it just pisses me off.”

“Then be angry, but stop making Prompto the enemy. He’s as scared as you or I, if not more. Throwing the _one_ thing he has ever admitted to being scared of in his face? It goes beyond cruel. He has never once shown any indication of being anything other than the kind and thoughtful best friend of the prince.” And that may be gone now, the unspoken words echoed in Gladiolus’ head.

“Anything that stands in our way is a problem, Ignis. And we don’t know what Ardyn did to him. What if he did do something to break Prompto in ways we don’t know?” These were very real concerns as far as Gladio believed. “What do I-“ he broke off when Ignis raised his hand and lifted his chin.

“It would be wise for you to stop talking now. Let Prompto in, and then shut your mouth before it makes more trouble for all of us. I’m going to rest and I suggest you do the same.” Gladio hadn’t heard Ignis’ voice be that cold in quite a long time, and was about to comment when there were shuffled footsteps outside and the door beeped, then made a double tone that sounded like a denial.

The door made the same sequence of sounds again, and then a familiar voice came from the opposite side. “It’s Prompto. Either let me in, or tell me to get lost so I know where to go. I’d rather not just stand out here.”

“Let him in, Gladio.”

Gladio stood there, anger warring at his heart. If he let Prompto in, and it turned out to be one of Ardyn’s traps, they were as good as dead. If it wasn’t a trap and Prompto really was himself, could Gladio look Noctis in the eyes when he came back? Was Ignis right and he was just being irrational? Or had Ardyn done something to him too?

The door sounded again, and Ignis rose with a disappointed sigh, moving carefully towards the door, bumping into it with long fingers. “One moment, Prompto…” he said, skimming the surface in search of the mechanism. He found it, turned the handle, and then moved back. “Try again if you would. I believe I released the latch.”

The door beeped, clicked, and opened. Prompto staggered in, closing the door behind him, and he turned the handle himself. “Thanks Ignis. Go on and rest. I’ll take first watch while I load things up and do what I can to re-arm.” He didn’t even acknowledge Gladio. It was probably for the best. Gladio didn’t have anything to say anyway.


	4. Chapter Four

Gladio awoke to the sounds of gunfire and the smell of ozone in the air. That could only mean that Ignis had thrown a lightning spell, and the air was crackling with the aftermath. He rolled out of the bunk bed, realizing the door to the room was open, and summoning his broadsword, he headed outside.

The hallway was empty, and the gunfire was in the next room, behind the door that was closed. He tried to open it, but it wasn’t budging, and then he heard his name spoken from behind, farther down the way. He spun, searching for the man who had called his name, seeing Ignis leaned against the wall on the far side of the room.

“Iggy!” The name burst from him as he released his sword and sprinted to the fallen man. “What the hell happened?” He looked over Ignis for signs of injury, but found nothing new, nothing to indicate why he was crumpled weakly, working for breath.

“An MT gained access to the room and Prompto lured it out. I tried to assist, but there’s some sort of poison in the air that way. Prompto…” Ignis paused to cough and then continued. “went ahead to see how far the gas filled the hallway. Said an MT didn’t need to breathe so much, so he’d go ahead.”

“Damned idiot. What the hell is he doing other than going to get himself killed?” Gladio stood and offered Ignis a hand, pausing, and then bumping the man on the shoulder. “Let me help you up. Where’s your cane?”

Ignis clasped his hand after a moment, and worked his way back to his feet. “I’d imagine he’s trying to prove that he isn’t going to kill us, Gladio. Even if he dies trying.” Ignis released Gladio’s grasp with a grunt and waved across the room. “It’s over there somewhere. Might be on the other side of the door. I’m not sure quite where I was when Prompto pushed me back and slammed the door.”

Gladio turned and scanned the floor but didn’t see the cane. “Must be on the other side. Door’s locked, too. Can’t go that way unless I find an access card or he comes back.” If the poison didn’t overwhelm him before he returned.

"He will return, Gladio. He gave me his word." Ignis was dusting himself off when Gladio turned back around, and the swordsman had a moment to ponder how natural that looked. Of course it was reflex; Ignis couldn't see that he was looking far more tattered and worn than not. Gladio was pretty sure he looked much the same.

The strategist was moving slowly towards the open door to the bunker room when the far door beeped, and then clicked. As the door rolled open, Gladio summoned his greatsword and turned to see what - or who was coming through.

Acrid smoke rolled into the hallway, accompanied by a coughing, wheezing and far worse off than earlier blond figure who turned and slapped his wrist against the sensor, making the door roll shut again. "No good," Prompto choked out, turning to fall against the door and slide to the floor. He dropped the object that had been in his hand- Ignis' cane, and leaned his head against the door, eyes closed, just breathing for a moment before he coughed again and continued. "The whole path is filled with that stuff. I didn't get that far before I had to turn around. Gotta... gotta go back."

“We can't go back, there's nowhere else to go. We have to find a way through," Gladio rumbled, glowering at the situation. Too late, he realized it looked like he was glaring at Prompto, because the blond had gone from pale and wheezing to positively pasty, and then anger flushed his face.

“I found,” Prompto started, and then coughed violently, deep wracking sounds that seemed to originate somewhere below them. It wasn’t until the cough turned into a strangely wet sound and Prompto spat to the side, wiping blood off his lips, that Gladio realized that Prompto truly was in trouble. “I found a map.” He paled, spat blood again, and struggled to get up using Ignis’ cane for support.

He didn’t make it upright. Gladio didn’t so much as release the greatsword as drop it, rushing to catch Prompto as he fell. The clatter of the cane caught Ignis’ attention and he barked out a query in Prompto’s name. When no answer came, Ignis tried again. “Gladio, what’s happening?”

“I need an antidote or a remedy and a hi-elixir, Iggy, fast.” He kept talking, his voice low and urgent, giving Ignis a sound to follow. “Come on Prompto, stay with us. Open your eyes, you moron, I’m not done yelling at you. Of all the dumbassed things to do, to run through a corridor full of poison for a damned map.” Gruff was quickly overtaking angry, not that it sounded any different.

Ignis came to a halt beside him, offering the requested phials, and Gladio took them, then shook Prompto hard. It earned him a groan in response, followed by a weak cough, but Prompto didn’t open his eyes. Gladio gritted his teeth, moved the phials into his lap, and slapped Prompto hard across the face. “WAKE UP, DAMN IT.”

Eyelashes parted, blue eyes bleary, the pale skin a sickly green against his blond hair. He coughed again, a deep wet sound and Gladio knew they were out of time. They had no choice; he popped the hi-elixir and the antidote at the same time, opting for the instant diffusion method and waited for the magical cocktail to do its worst.

Instant diffusion worked differently from drinking the liquid. For one, it was slower to be absorbed in the victim’s body, and secondly it wasn’t always as effective. Prompto, however, wasn’t in any condition to drink the medicinals, so it was the best way in Gladio’s opinion.

They sat there for a long time, Prompto’s upper body cradled in Gladio’s arms. Ignis shifted to sit beside Prompto, leaning against the closed door, waiting alongside the warrior. After what felt like too long, Gladio pulled a potion out and broke it over Prompto, waiting to see if that would boost things along.

Finally Ignis spoke quietly. “We should get him on a bed, let him rest. His breathing doesn’t sound quite as labored, and hopefully some sleep will carry him through the remainder of healing.” The strategist rose, coughed, and began to slowly move along the wall towards the bunker room.

“Iggy,” Gladio said. “Two steps backwards and put your right hand down and back.” He raised the cane and waited while Ignis reached around in the air, found the head and took it from Gladio with a nod of thanks before moving back towards the room. After watching Ignis get to the room safely, Gladio collected the limp gunner, stood, and carried him into the room.

Prompto was light. Too light. He was only slightly shorter than Noctis, but Noct was heavier. What was Gladio missing? Scowling, he carried the man into the bunker room, rested him on the bunk next to the one Ignis had been in, and sat back on his heels. “There’s something wrong with Prompto,” he said abruptly. “There’s no weight to him.”

“Ah,” Ignis said softly, throwing the latch on the door after it closed. He moved slowly towards, and settled on the bunk beside them. “Did you think Ardyn truly fed him three meals a day. Or had you forgotten what young Prompto endured for Noct’s sake?” He sighed faintly, and though Gladio knew he was blind, he swore Ignis was giving him that piercing look of his. “We are lucky that our young friend is made of stiffer stuff.”

Gladio grunted, the sound he knew Ignis understood as his answer when he didn’t want to admit the other man was right. “Get some rest, Iggy. I’ll wake you if anything changes.” He stood, walked over and collected the chair, bringing it back to the side of the bunk where Prompto lay. He didn’t bother turning out the lights; He was going to keep watch over the younger man until he was sure Prompto would be okay. He owed him that, at the very least.


	5. Chapter Five

The moment Prompto woke, Gladio lifted his head and looked to the younger man. Prompto hadn’t opened his eyes, but his breathing had shifted and his right hand worked to his face, fingers rubbing at his eyes and then pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath as Gladio watched, held it, and then let the air out slowly, as if testing his lungs to make sure they didn’t hurt. Only then did he open his eyes and lower his hand, splaying his fingers on his chest.

“Hey there,” Gladio tried to sound kind and gentle, but it wasn’t his strong suit. That was more Ignis’ style, but he would try. “How ya feeling?” He watched emotions flicker through Prompto’s face, his stomach sinking as the blond settled on anger. He deserved it, Ignis was right. Wasn’t the first time and it very likely wouldn’t be the last.

For a moment, Prompto was silent, and just as Gladio was thinking he wasn’t going to get a response, the other man’s voice came, a quiet reply. “I’ll live.” Which, considering a few hours ago, was a marked improvement. His gaze remained fixated on the underside of the bed above him, not looking towards Gladio at all.

“Good,” Gladio grunted, and then stretched in the chair, sighing. “Look, Prompto, I’m an ass. And I shouldn’t have popped off at you, and you have every damned right to be angry and hurt and…” He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to figure out how to explain what he really couldn’t understand himself. “It’s this place. It’s poison, and I don’t mean what you ran headlong into to find the damned map. It plays with your mind, sets you on edge.”

Prompto remained silent, closing his eyes and resting the back of his hand on his forehead. Gladio couldn’t tell if he was listening or if the blonde had tuned him out, but he kept trying. “It’s not right, what I said, not right at all. I crossed a line and I apologize.”

There was a long silence, and then Prompto spoke. “Did Ignis tell you to say that?” The words were flat, and behind him, Gladio heard the faintest sound from Ignis, as if the strategist was trying not to be there, trying to pretend he was asleep. It made the moment all the keener.

“He made his thoughts clear to me, but he didn’t tell me to apologize.” Not outright, at least. It was left unspoken, but Gladio wasn’t stupid. He knew the expectation when he heard it. The fact that he was apologizing meant that he knew he needed to. “I’m apologizing because I need to. I was wrong. I was… an ass.”

“You still are.” It wasn’t a rebuttal, but it wasn’t acceptance either. Agreement, perhaps. Gladio couldn’t read Prompto, and decided the better against trying. “I meant what I said. We get out of here, get safe, I’m done.” Gone. “Got no desire to be around anyone who thinks I’m a soulless machine hell-bent on destruction.” And then Prompto rolled over, turning his back to Gladio.

Gladio ignored the faint sound of exhaled air behind him. At least, he tried. It didn’t work very well, as Ignis’ unspoken observation that Gladio had well and truly messed this up was crystal clear. “Yeah, okay. As long as you’re safe, Prompto. Get some rest. We’ll review the map and head out when you feel up to it.”

Gladio rose, picking up the chair, and setting it back down on the other side of the room. He sat back down on it, and settled in to keep watch, dark thoughts swirling around in his head. He had no idea how to fix this. None whatsoever.

Perhaps Ignis was right, and it wasn’t fixable.

 

Gladio was pretty sure no-one rested after that, and what seemed like both an eternity and a short time later, they were awake and Gladio was looking over the map that Prompto had risked his life to retrieve. “Looks like if we go back three areas there should be another door that will lead us to the way out.” He traced the route on the map, memorizing the path.

“Fine,” Prompto replied, taking up the map. “Let’s do it.” He had a singular focus: to get out of Gralea, not that Gladio could blame him. Of course, they still had another long haul once they were free of the ruined city, through the frigid deep of the Glacian’s territory and into Tenebrae, where if they were lucky, they’d find passage back to Lucis. If not, they could push on to Cartanica.

In the end, they made it out of Gralea with ease once they had the map and knew where they were going. And Prompto even managed to get a military vehicle working, one with a Magitek Generator, so they didn’t have to worry over fuel. Gladio had kept his mouth shut about Prompto’s affinity with Niflheim technology, but he might as well have said it anyway, to Ignis’ interminable disgust. Prompto just set his jaw and drove the tank-like thing onto the railroad tracks and aimed them at Tenebrae.

It turned dark earlier, and it stayed dark longer, and that made Gladio even twitchier. And when they made it to Tenebrae, they found a last straggling group of refugees waiting to take a boat across to Lucis. Had they been any later in arriving, they would have been left behind. Gladio couldn’t help but mouth off about timing, and that led to another explosive outburst between Prompto and Gladio that Ignis didn’t even _try_ to smooth over.

Eventually, the boat arrived for the last of the refugees, and the trio boarded separately. The boat took them to Caem, crossing the sea by night, and by early afternoon, they were once again in Lucis. Prompto was the first off the boat, and though Gladio had heard Ignis ask he not be a stranger, there had been no assurance he would keep in touch. The swordsman could only stand to be rebuffed so many times, and he’d given up. He let Prompto go, angry and alone into the setting sun of Lucis, headed to parts unknown.

Ignis, having struck up a conversation with some people headed for Lestallum, opted to join them and after a somewhat stiff farewell, left Gladio standing in the basement of the Caem lighthouse, staring at the photo of Regis and his Crownsguard, remembering the words Cid had given to them before they’d left for Altissia: _Remember – those ain’t your bodyguards, they’re your brothers._

And without Noctis, the brotherhood had broken.

The sun didn’t rise the next morning.

 

Gladiolus Amicitia had never felt so small.


	6. Chapter Six

Gladio spent his first week at Caem helping out with wrangling refugees, keeping order, and generally trying not to think about the fact that he'd been left behind.

At first, when the sun refused to rise, Gladio had to wonder if it was related to the shattered brotherhood. And then, he realized that it probably had more to do with the fact that the Crystal had... well... _eaten_ Noctis, for lack of any better way of putting it. Finally, he shrugged and put it all out of his mind, throwing himself blindly into survival and refugee assistance.

Things just went downhill from there. Daemons the like that no-one had ever seen began ripping their way into the world, and they started hearing that smaller outposts were failing, falling to the onslaught of daemons. Cor showed up, grabbed Gladio, and they headed out to the Maidenwater to see if there were any survivors to be rescued.

Gladio hadn’t counted on running into Prompto near the Malmalam thicket. He’d lost track of time, startled to learn it had been four months since they’d parted ways. The blond, previously thin and sickly, now looked less sickly, but still thin. He’d greeted Cor well enough, and acknowledged Gladio with a hard look and a nod that made Cor pause, but the Immortal didn’t ask. He knew Noctis was gone, and with him had gone something from those left behind.

Prompto spoke to Cor, Gladio watching from a distance, and then the blond moved away, pulled a sorry wreck of a motorcycle out of the shadows and mounted it, kicking the engine over and taking off into the darkness. Gladio watched him go with mixed emotions. Fine, if that’s how Prompto wanted to play it, Gladio could too. He watched as Cor approached, waiting for the inevitable observation that something was amiss, but it never came.

Instead, Cor told him that they were the only ones left alive, that Prompto had been dispatched from Ravatogh and that soon the Hunters would be pulling out of the volcano’s immediate area entirely, retreating to Meldacio. Malmalam and the Maidenwater were lost.

Months flew past, ground lost at alarming rates. Cor split from Gladio, and the once-shield of the Crown Prince found himself holed up at Hammerhead while Cindy worked on his truck. He was chatting with her, listening to her through the engine of the pickup when he looked up at a familiar voice. Coming out of the RV, talking animatedly to someone was Prompto… vastly different from the last time he’d seen the blond.

From the bottom up, Prompto was wearing rugged boots and workable cargo pants, a belt at his waist with several pouches clipped on. He wore a tank top tucked in at the waist, and a leather jacket was slung casually over his shoulder. He moved with an almost easy rolling motion and he’d been skinny in Gralea, but now… now he was just sinew and muscle, with the physique of a runner. He’d never rival Gladio, but damn, the kid had shaped up and shaped up _well_. Gladio felt something akin to pride for a moment. Too bad he still wore his hair in that damned chocobo-butt cut.

Gladio ducked his head back down into the engine compartment as Prompto and his companion walked by, and the gunner’s voice carried across the short distance. He was talking about a hunt he’d just signed on to take down at Galdin Quay. Take out the daemons and escort the survivors. They’d been given notice. Galdin Quay. They were losing another outpost.

They wouldn’t lose Caem, Gladio swore to himself. He’d go back and hold the fort, even if he was the only one there, they would _not_ lose the last southern port they had in Lucis. If any survivors from Altissia hadn’t yet made it, the Lighthouse of Lucis had to stay lit. As soon as Cindy gave him the all-clear, he was leaving Hammerhead. He unbent from the engine compartment, straightened, turned, and made eye contact with Prompto. This time, it was Gladio who nodded once before turning and walking to the shop to stock up on things he’d need at Caem.

Footsteps fell in behind him in the shop. “Ignis wants you to buy a radio. Or at the very least, go to Lestallum and prove to him you’re still alive.” The voice was Prompto’s, but it wasn’t. It was darker, heavier, the timbre changed by time and circumstance. This new world was beating them all into different shapes than before.

Gladio turned to see the blond behind him, and raised an eyebrow. “How is he?” He half turned back to hand the shopkeeper some gil and take his purchases. “He keeping well?” The bag was an old cloth bag that had once held Ebony coffee beans, and Gladio tried not to notice, really he did. It wasn’t effective, and felt as if the Astrals were trying to tell him something he didn’t want to hear.

“Well enough, from what I hear. He’s been training. Said he wants to be ready for Noct’s return.” Prompto pushed past Gladio and put a few things on the counter. There was a new tattoo on Prompto’s wrist. CXIV. “Cor’s training him. He’ll be fine.”

 _Who trained you?_ Gladio wanted to ask, but he didn’t, his eyes stuck on that tattoo for a little longer than he wanted them to be. He looked away with a grunt. “Yeah, guess so. I’ll see about a radio in time. Don’t have much need of one right now.” He didn’t want his animosity broadcast over open radio channels where anyone could hear, and if he knew Ignis, there would be any number of comments regarding Gladio’s behavior.

“Suit yourself. I’ll tell him I saw you,” Prompto replied before asking the shopkeep for a bag of non-magical medical supplies, clearly finished with the conversation with Gladio. It was strangely off-putting, Prompto being the one to initiate and then dismiss conversation. Gladio wondered what Ignis thought, and then decided against finding out. He didn’t want to hear what Ignis thought of _him_.

 

The truck was ready when he got back to it, and he loaded up his gear and rolled out, waving a hand out the window in farewell. The gate closed behind him and he started down the long road to Caem, thoughts flying ahead to checking the fuel for the light and making sure that the place was kept up. A strange sound erupted under his dashboard, followed by a drawl that he knew all too well.

“Hammerhead to Shield, come in Shield. We need ya to go help with the evacuation of Galdin. Can ya handle it?”

Gladio sighed, wondering if Prompto had put Cindy up to installing the radio in his truck and grabbed the box with a ‘push this to talk’ sign in Cindy’s neat handwriting. He obediently pushed the button and spoke into the thing. “Yeah, I’ll head that way, and when we get back, we need to talk about this thing you installed.”

“Sure thing, Shield. I’ll be happy to tell you all about it when you get back. You be safe out there, ya hear?” Sweetly sassy as ever, Cindy knew Gladio wasn’t going to say a damned thing. And so did he.

“Copy that,” Gladio responded, then dropped the radio handset and floored it for Galdin Quay. No way was he letting Prompto on that puny motorcycle get there first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for demishock. Who knows why.


	7. Chapter Seven

The evacuation of Galdin Quay was the first time Gladio died while on his own.

He knew he had because he’d gotten in a battle with a mass of flan bigger than he was, taken a bad hit and felt the lightheaded sluggishness of bloodloss before he could get out a potion and instead had summoned up a fiery pinion.

He didn’t remember breaking the spine, but he came around to the sounds of battle nearby with the scent of burned feather and the tingly feeling of a dispersed potion on his skin. He rolled over, someone’s hand helping him up, and when he saw the tattoo, his stomach sank. CXIV. Prompto. “On your feet, Gladiolus, it’s going to take all of us to get these things beaten back.”

Prompto was chiding him now? What the hell was the world coming to? “Right,” he said, summoning and shouldering his blade. “Thanks,” he threw as an aside, and then built up an attack as he ran headlong into the morass, blade spinning.

The blond wasn’t in the distance, firing his guns. No, he was up close and personal, moving almost as fast as Noctis’ warping, dropping attacks before darting back off to safety. What the hell was he using? It distracted Gladio for a moment, and he had to double swing his blade to take down a reapertail.

A rapid patter of gunfire sounded off from Gladio’s left, and he felt something brush his leg as it fell, spinning to find a reapertail thrashing death throes from Prompto’s gunfire. Gladio grunted, and put his mind firmly in the fight, closing out anything that wasn’t battle necessary.

Fifteen minutes later, the area was clear and the hunters assigned to the Galdin evacuation were working through the building, gathering up survivors. Coctura and Dino were glad to see him, and he waved them off towards his truck. Others came out of hiding as well, and after an hour and a headcount, they started making their way back up to Hammerhead.

Fourteen souls. Fourteen out of the hundred or so that had operated out of Galdin Quay. Too damn many lost in Gladio’s opinion. He wondered how much of the overall population they’d lost. Ignis would probably know. Maybe he’d radio him and ask. Maybe he knew what weapon Prompto was favoring these days. On second thought, maybe he wouldn’t ask that.

 

Back at Hammerhead, Gladio sat in the back of his truck, cleaning the blade, inspecting it for damages. He was oiling it down when Prompto walked up and looked at him. “Takka’s got food on if you want some. Said he can make you a go bag if you’re still going to Caem.” There wasn’t any warmth in the blond’s voice, and Gladio didn’t expect any.

“I’m good. Got my own supplies when I need them, and it still takes me a while to get hungry after a Phoenix down. Thanks for that, by the way. Got in over my head.” Gladio was learning to not be a proud man. It had come at way too high a price.

“All right,” Prompto said, and turned away, starting to walk back to the diner, clearly having only come out at Takka’s behest. Or Cindy’s. She’d been the first to figure out that something was amiss between the men who had once been as tight as brothers, but she wasn’t asking, either.

Gladio looked up from his sword. “Hey Prompto, you look good. The tattoo suits you.” At least, he thought he’d try. Nothing was ever lost by being nice, according to old adage. Granted, old adage had never tried to be nice to Ardyn Izunia.

“Thanks,” Prompto said it the same way Noct had, a half-indifferent sound. He didn’t turn, and didn’t wave, just walked on to the diner and that was that.

It made Gladio’s heart hurt a little, and he wondered if it was intentional. It probably was, and he probably deserved it. He didn’t say anything about that, though, and just watched the blond walk off. If he hadn’t known it was Prompto, he’d have thought it was a different hunter entirely. The world was changing and so were they.

 

Caem was a wasteland. It took an hour of fighting to get the house clear and lit once again, and then almost half an hour to get up to the lighthouse. Once it was lit, the daemons retreated somewhat, and Gladio made notes for lights and where to aim things. If he could get some lights installed, this could work as an unmanned base, somewhere to give hunters respite and act as a refuge for stray survivors.

He spent two weeks there in Caem before he heard the radio in his truck making noises. He’d opened up the fence so he could pull the truck up closer to the old house, and while it wasn’t audible up at the lighthouse, he could hear it from the bedroom. “Crownsguard Shield, are you out there? Proof of life request from Crownsguard Advisor, come in Shield.”

Ignis must have heard from Cindy or Prompto. With a sigh, Gladio moved down the stairs and out to his truck, keying the radio in response. “Yeah, Iggy, I’m here. Good to hear your voice. You hanging in all right? Lestallum, right?” Anyone with a radio could hear this. Even Prompto.

“Indeed, and it is good to hear yours as well. How fares Caem?” Came Ignis’ voice in return, and it didn’t surprise Gladio that the strategist knew where he was. Ignis made it his business to know everything after all.

“It’s rough, not gonna lie. Need some more lights down here and probably some generators if I can scrounge them up from some failed outposts. Then start some sort of routine run to make sure everything is operational. Just in case it’s needed. It’ll make a decent enough Southern base if we can keep it.” He closed the door of the truck behind him and settled into the seat.

“I believe that we may have something in the pipeline that can assist with this. When can you get to Lestallum to discuss further?” Ignis was always so proper, and clearly didn’t wish to converse on the radio, not that daemons listened in, right?

“Give me a week and I’ll be up there, Iggy. I just need to make this place secure enough that there won’t be any problems while I’m gone.” There were some physical repairs to do and a bit of fortifying. After that, the place should be good to go.

“I’ll leave word at the Leveille. See you in a week, Crownsguard Advisor off the air.”

Huh. Guess they’d have to come up with communications protocols without post-modern phones. And he probably ought to get a radio that fit on his person, too. Cindy was never going to let him hear it down.


	8. Chapter Eight

Lestallum had been smelly hot and dirty before, but now it was reaching deeper within itself to find places to put the displaced, disenchanted, and dispossessed. As a result, it was smellier, dirtier, and still just as damn hot. Gladio hated Lestallum. The Six only knew why Iris liked it here. And Ignis… Gladio was completely stunned when he laid eyes on the man.

It had been almost two years since Gladio had last seen Ignis as they separated at Caem, and he remembered the hesitance and reliance on his cane. So he did not expect the man to walk briskly into the Leveille, head high and glasses dark. He had no cane, but somehow navigated the lobby with precision and grace that Gladio hadn't seen since before Altissia. “Iggy?” He tried to hide the disbelief, but it was harder than he'd expected it to be.

“Gladiolus, good of you to come.” Ignis replied, motioning for the swordsman to follow him. “Unfortunately, the magitek engine we located in Fort Vaullerey turned out to be difficult to wire into Lucian systems, so I’m afraid your trip won’t be as much help to you as was hoped.” They moved down a hallway and into a room that had once been a dining area, but now looked to have been converted into a strange equivalent of a war room.

Gladio tried to ignore the formality. “Can’t say as I want magitek stuff in Caem. For all we know it attracts the daemons.” He followed Ignis into the war room, looking around him in badly hidden surprise. “This is impressive. Home base, I take it?” Tables were covered with paper both printed and apparently blank, though there seemed to be strange patterns dotted across them.

“Simply my own efforts at attempting to make logic from the chaos,” Ignis replied, and turned to a young man who brought up a page that appeared blank with the strange bumps on it. The paper changed hands, and Ignis ran his fingers over it quickly, turned the page around, and repeated the movement before handing it back. “It seems more outposts have fallen. Taelpar is lost.”

Gladio wondered at the actions, and then grunted. He’d heard of the blind being able to read patterns on paper; that’s what Iggy must have done. “That’s between Caem and Hammerhead. I’ll put that on my list of places to reclaim as soon as I figure out how to best handle lighting. There’s fuel there, so I should be able to rig up something. Maybe not a full time lighting solution, but I can put lights on a timer to make it safer to pass through at certain times.” He wasn’t as good with mechanical things as Prompto, but Gladio was learning on his own.

“That would be a timely idea,” Ignis agreed, and Gladio wasn’t even certain the man knew he’d made a pun. It had been hard to tell with Ignis before, now? It was even worse. A stiff formality stood between them like a wall, and Gladio didn’t know how to breach it. “Enough of this; let us take a meal and you can bring me to speed on how things are with you.”

 

A meal consisted of food at a nearby market stall, and the proprietor greeted Ignis as a friend and not just a patron. It pleased Gladio to see that Ignis was making friends, even if it hurt that he no longer counted within that circle. _A small sacrifice_. He remembered Ignis saying that repeatedly to Noct, and the thought made something rise in Gladio’s throat. He put his drink down a little too quickly and Ignis noticed. “Gladiolus?”

Gladio swallowed around the thing in his throat, buying himself a moment, and then decided just to bypass the whole name issue for the time being. Ignis was being so distantly formal, it seemed improper to keep calling him ‘Iggy.’ “Nothing, just thinking. Got a long list of things to do if I’m going to get Caem up and running. Gotta talk to Holly about power load and conservation. See if she has some books I can read.”

“I am certain she has much you can learn from, and can usually be found down by the power plant.” Ignis responded, finishing his drink. “Indeed, one might convince her to assist you in Caem now that she has come to terms with daemon fighting.” But not him, Gladio noted. Not Ignis. So why the hell was he here? Why had he come all the way up to Lestallum?

“Yeah, I figured I’d go talk to her after we ate,” Gladio replied, bundling up the uneaten portion of his meal. He knew food was going scarce, knew that he should eat it, but he just couldn’t swallow it around whatever it was that was that was still lodged in his throat. “You want me to toss that for you, Ignis?” Ah. So that had been what it was. The shift from ‘Iggy’ to ‘Ignis.’ Just like that, the lump was lessened, but the wall between them fortified.

“Thank you,” Ignis passed the cup to Gladio and stood quietly as the larger man moved to throw the remnants away and return. “Now, if you will pardon me, Gladiolus, I must return to the Leveille and continue monitoring the situation in Meldacio. Feel free to find me after your conversation with Holly.” Ignis lifted his hand in a farewell and turned to walk back to the hotel, unhindered by… well, much of anything.

Gladio watched Ignis go, struggling with emotions he did not want to show on his face, and then let the one emotion that he could deal with run through and clear his mind: anger. Ignis didn’t want to be friends with him? Fine. He could do without Ignis. Speak with Holly, refuel his truck, and then head back down to Caem and stay south of Ravatogh and the Disc, and never come back this way again. He hated Lestallum. Nothing good had ever happened here, and the sooner he could leave, the better off he’d be.


	9. Chapter Nine

In the end, Gladio didn’t go talk to Holly. Instead, he hit several shops selling what he thought he’d need, and he loaded his truck with electrical wire, components, bulbs and lamps. He dithered too long over a radio, eventually choosing one that had two means by which it could be powered, and added it to his belt. After that, he refueled and left Lestallum without further ado. Really, there wasn’t anything for him there. Iris was in Meldacio, but that wasn’t his destination. He was going back to Caem. It didn’t escape his notice that Caem was where a lot of things had happened that he just didn’t want to think about. Pity it was critical they keep it running.

It took him a month to get lamps working, and when the occasional call from Crownsguard Advisor came over the radio, Gladio debated ignoring it.  Ultimately, he didn’t answer all the calls. Just a few. Maybe every other week. Another month gave him the idea to use the water as a power source. That had been harder to put into action, but in time, he’d rigged up enough of a water wheel to have backup power.

Gladio almost enjoyed it. He had a task, a roof, and when he got low on food, he wandered out of Caem’s influence and scavenged. Taelpar had some supplies, and when he found anything that looked edible, he took it back and stored it in the kitchenette. It wasn’t really much of a _life_ ; it was lonely and hard, sometimes it was difficult to sleep, but Gladio had come to terms with not deserving much after his ego and attitude got in the way. Prices paid and all that.

 

It took almost six more months for Gladio to work out the timer for lights in Taelpar. Six months, lots of trial and error, a few electrical burns and half a dozen potions every trip. It was an expensive venture, but at the end of the experience, it was _so_ worth it. Nothing beat the satisfaction of knowing that he, Gladiolus Amicitia, had used his own two hands to make a difference.

The lights would come on for three hours every twelve hours. Three hours to give anyone passing through a chance to get some rest, or just a safe place to eat. The interior had lights on demand as well, and it was all on the main power grid, with backup from the internal fuel station if needed. Gladio was proud of his work, but the only thing he did was sign his name in ink on the wall of the station. He’d learned not to be proud. After all, his ego and pride were what had broken the brotherhood, and he’d be damned if he was going to let anything like that happen again.

Pride goeth before a messy, ugly downfall, and Gladio needed to climb back out of his hole before Noct came back.

At length, Gladio found himself returning to Hammerhead, his truck in sorry need of service. He’d hoped to avoid any altercations with Prompto if the blond was passing through. So far, he hadn't seen the beat up motorcycle or any sign of the man. Cindy had made a fuss over the shape of the truck and taken it away from Gladio immediately, sending him off to eat something and let her do her magic on the engine.

 

It took a month to get the truck back to a shape that Cindy was satisfied with returning. A month in which Gladio hung out at Hammerhead, fought and bled with the hunters assigned there, and wondered if he’d encounter Prompto again.

He knew that Prompto was more or less a permanent part of the hunters out of Meldacio, but had heard stories here and there about how the blond was seen all over Lucis, courtesy of a new motorcycle that rumor said was Insomnian. Had Prompto gone to Insomnia? Would he tell Gladio if he had?

Prompto didn’t turn up in Hammerhead, so Gladio couldn’t find out.

Who Gladio did encounter was Aranea Highwind, and he sat with her in Takka’s diner the day after his keys were returned. “I’m just saying that there’s something in Gralea that I want to check on. Is that too much? Just take your jumpship and drop me in Zegnautus. Give me a few days and if I don’t come back, leave me there.”

“No way,” Aranea replied, pushing her bowl of stew off to the side. “There isn’t enough gil on Eos to talk me into making that trip. I put the Empire behind me for good reason and I am not about to set my sights on it again. Besides, if I stopped making supply runs between Lestallum and Hammerhead, the people here won’t survive.” And without Hammerhead, they’d lose the Crown City for good. The last bastion of light had to stay lit.

He understood it. He didn’t like it, but Gladio understood it. “All right,” he rumbled. “I understand. I still need to go, need to see if it’s still how we left it.” The thought of Noctis returning to find himself in Gralea alone and with no way back to Lucis made his spine itch. “The yacht moored at Caem ought to take me there. Got to Altissia okay, I can get to Tenebrae on my own.”

“You do that, you be careful, big guy.” Aranea said sharply, making Gladio look at her in surprise. “There’s all sorts of nasty stuff out there in Lucis, the thought of what’s lurking around Niflheim? Doesn’t even bear relevance. And I know what was there before the sun went down. I don’t want to imagine what it’s become.”

Gladio remembered. Too well. Poison halls and bizarre magitek-hybrid daemons. Things that hid in his memory and came out in the dark of dream to haunt him. He put his fork down and looked at his stew. “I left something behind that I shouldn’t have, and I’ll fight whatever it takes to get there and find it again.”

“I know when I can’t talk someone out of something,” Aranea replied, rising from her chair. “I’m just saying be careful when you go. No-one will think the worst of you if you turn around and come back to Lucis. Don’t forget we need you too.” She thumped his shoulder and left him glaring at his stew.

Lucis didn’t need him. _Noctis_ needed him.


	10. Chapter 10

When Gladio returned to Caem, it was clear someone had been through. There were new food supplies, things were rearranged in the kitchen, and the fuel for the lighthouse and the lower residence had been topped off. It came as a relief that he could be away from Caem for months and someone else could come through and it was still serviceable. Meant the daemons weren’t winning after all.

He checked the yacht; it was fueled and ready, so he packed in what he thought was a week of supplies, and fired up the engine. It leapt into life, and he untied the ropes keeping the boat moored, then navigated out of the cape, heading towards Tenebrae.

 

The Cygillian Ocean was unkind, unforgiving, and completely beyond Gladio’s ability to handle on his own. The yacht heaved and swayed, the waves crashing over the sides, surf pounding the ship and swamping the engine. It sputtered, then died and nothing Gladio did would get it to restart. He spent an hour getting buffeted by wind and waves, and finally, seeing shore wasn’t that far off, grudgingly ditched the yacht and swam for it.

By the time he reached land, he was beyond exhausted and the only thing he knew was that he could see the lighthouse off to his right, so he had to be somewhere around the Leirity seaside. Spelcray Haven was near Leirity, if Gladio recalled correctly… the hope was that the runes were still intact.

 

It took almost two hours to find the haven, and to Gladio’s relief, the glowing runes were still lit, a soft blue welcoming him to a safe place to rest his head. He didn’t even care that he had no tent. He lay there on the hard rock, staring up at the darkness above, and offered yet another apology to Noctis.

He couldn’t get back to Gralea, he’d lost the King’s yacht, broken the bonds of brotherhood with Ignis and Prompto, and left things on poor terms with Noctis. Some damn shield he turned out to be. His father would be humiliated, and with good reason. The only thing Gladio had turned out to be good for was killing daemons (sometimes) and rigging up lights. Oh, and pissing people off. That was, after all, his master ability.

His head thunked against the rock as he tried to beat some sense into himself. Rest. *thunk* get back to Caem *thunk* figure out how to make good with Ignis. *thunk* Apologize profusely to Prompto. *thunk* Grovel. *thunk* *thunk* *thunk* *thunk* His head was starting to hurt, but it hurt less than his heart. *thunk* *thunk* *thunk* Darkness.

 

He opened his eyes to a flashlight in his face. “Gladio? What the hell are you doing out here without any gear?" Cor's voice was mixed with amusement and incredulous surprise.

" _Six_ , Cor...I am glad to see you," Gladio rolled to his feet, lifting a hand to ward against the flashlight. "Thought I was going to spend the while recovering and then try to make my back to Caem."

"Do I even want to know what happened to you?"

"Tried to get to Tenebrae by boat. Water's too choppy to make it and I got swamped. Had to swim to shore, and I don't know where the yacht ended up. Might've sunk for all I know. Damn sorry about that; just wish I hadn't done it now, you know?" Gladio said, running his hand along the back of his neck.

"Mmmhmm," Cor replied, shaking his head. "All right, Gladio. Let's get you back to Caem and talk."

 

The trip back to Caem in Cor’s old jeep was quiet, heavy with words unspoken and the impending questions that Gladio didn’t want to answer. He knew many that Cor would ask, and Gladio would answer truthfully, given that the Crownsguard Shield was sworn against lying and Cor outranked him.

“You want to start now or wait until we’re there,” Cor said quietly, watching the road for daemons as they sped through the tunnel towards Caem. “Doesn’t matter to me either way, but there’s clearly a good bit going on that I know about, but probably a lot more that I _don’t_.”

“May as well start by telling me what you know,” Gladio replied, resigned to his fate. As if he hadn’t berated himself enough for his actions, now Cor would get a few good hits in too. Happiness and joy. He could almost see Noct’s wry ‘oh you’re gonna get it now’ smirk in the back of his mind.

Cor swerved around a pothole opening in the road and started. “I know you came back from Niflheim without Noctis. The three of you split soon after arriving in Lucis. Ignis went to Lestallum. What was left of Prompto went to Hammerhead, where it took three medics a month to rehabilitate him.” Anger bled into Cor’s voice at that, and Gladio honest to Ramuh felt his stomach flip. “Whatever happened to that boy damn near killed him and he won’t say a word about it.”

The jeep pulled up the path to the house at Caem and Cor came to a stop next to Gladio’s truck. “And you’re out here trying to get your ass killed by doing some of the dumbest stunts I’ve ever seen.” Cor slipped out of the jeep and slammed the door behind him for emphasis. “Hell, I’ve seen wet behind the ears rookies with more brains than you, Gladiolus Amicitia, so you had damn well better open your mouth and start talking. And if you’ve got a death wish, you’d best tell me that first.”

Gladio took a deep breath, nodded to himself, and exhaled as he exited the jeep. He led the way into the house, and once there, waved a hand at the table and chairs. “Have a seat. I’ll get something for us to drink, and then explain everything from where it all went to hell.”

And he did. He started with Altissia, walked Cor through Cartanica, Tenebrae, Gralea, the Keep… he held nothing back. The anger, the fights, the things he wished he could take back, the only thing he wouldn’t tell Cor was what he suspected Ardyn had done to Prompto. He only told the Immortal that Prompto had been held prisoner, nothing more. He owed Prompto at least that.

When Gladio was done, he looked at the water in his glass and wished for the fiftieth time that it was something stronger. He didn’t have the strength to look at Cor, who had been silent for the duration. The Immortal gave a heavy sigh and a grunt. “No damn wonder. Can’t say you handled things well, but sometimes that’s how it is. Tell you what, there’s a boat down by Galdin. I was planning to make a run to Altissia and see what was left. Come with me and we’ll figure out how to fix this mess you’re in.”

Gladio thought that was a reasonable enough idea, and maybe he could talk Cor- before he could finish the thought, Cor was talking again. “And we’re not going anywhere else. Just Altissia and back. There’s a lot of work you’ve got to do to fix things, and there’s no telling when Noctis will turn up. So no side trips.”

Yeah, okay. Gladio could live with that.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on the road today, so you get your update early~

The first thing Gladio did was agree to make a supply run to Hammerhead. Cor had to run up to Meldacio, and then they could meet down in Galdin to head out to Altissia. Gladio had a day, give or take, to gather what they’d need. He and Cor slept, and then headed out on separate paths once they got to Taelpar. The lights were still working, and that pleased Gladio, but he pushed on for Hammerhead without stopping to check on the rigging.

He opted to go up to Cauthess and turn behind the Old Holly Ranch, given that radio chatter about the Fallgrove indicated that it was becoming far stranger than not. Granted, the Fallgrove had always been creepy at night, but after hearing stories of the lovechild of a Red Giant and a Behemoth with a floating sword, Gladio wanted to stay as far away as possible. Someone had called it a Berserker, and anything with that name warranted copious amounts of caution.

He only had to stop three times to fight for the road, and he arrived in Hammerhead in reasonable enough spirits. Better yet, the shop had everything he needed and he had enough gil for a few extra things, including a new pair of rugged boots. His old Crownsguard boots were just about worn out.

New boots in hand, he was in a good enough mood to be almost jovial when he spotted Prompto talking to Cindy over his motorcycle. “Only he’d be sentimental enough to call a motorcycle his partner.” Gladio said, trying to make it a joke. He wasn’t sure it worked.

 “Gladio… hey, man. Good to see you,” Prompto looked good, if a little uneasy, as if he wasn’t all that happy to see Gladio, but was putting up a good face for Cindy, who was standing right there. “You hanging around a bit?” His smile clearly took some effort, but was pleasant enough, though the blue eyes were harder than Gladio wished they were.

“Nope. Heading to Caem now to meet up with Cor. He’s got a wild hair to swim over to Altissia

and see how bad things are there.” Gladio skirted around Prompto and the motorcycle, waving to Cindy with a faint smile. “You take care of yourself, Cindy. We’ll swing by when we get back, so leave the lights on for us.”

“You bet!” Cindy grinned at him and waved as he walked back to the truck, and jumped in, heading out through the gate and down towards Galdin. With Prompto there, he didn’t feel terribly welcome, and though he knew he needed to make things better, he wanted Cor’s opinion first. Maybe it would help.

 

Gladio remembered that Lachryte Haven had gone dark, leading to the evacuation of Galdin, so he made a stop at Vennaugh Haven along the way. He’d rest for a few hours and then head on down to Galdin proper to meet up with Cor. And who needed a tent? He grabbed a pillow and kipped out on the rock formation, falling into a light rest that slowly evolved into a proper nap.

 

 An hour later, more rested than before, Gladio tossed the pillow back into his truck and set out for Galdin Quay. The drive was strangely uneventful, and he arrived shortly after Cor, pulling in under the car park and cutting the engine. Cor tapped on the window, and he opened the door to talk to the man.

“Let’s load in as fast as we can; it’s too quiet and I don’t trust it.” Gladio agreed and they took a little more than was comfortable each trip, to reduce the number of times they had to traverse the desolate and dark sands.

All told, it took an hour to load the utilitarian boat, and Gladio noted with mixed emotions that it was the same boat on which he and the others had returned to Lucis from Tenebrae. The same boat that he’d wished the King’s yacht was less than a day ago. This boat was much better equipped to handle the swells and sway of the ocean, and Cor piloted it far better than Gladio could ever have done.

They made it to Altissia in reasonable time, stunned into silence by what greeted them. Gladio wasn’t sure Cor had been here before, but he had… and this was not what he remembered. The long causeway up to the gates was gone, ruin of rubble sticking up haphazardly in the waters that had risen when Leviathan damaged the dam. Many of the buildings that Gladio remembered were gone too, likely under the same waters.

Cor cut the engine to almost nothing, allowing their speed to slow. They navigated around something that looked like a roof, and Gladio saw what he thought was a thin walkway, until he realized it was the upper gondola track from the Listro Park South Station. He couldn’t quite keep the curse from his breath, and Cor glanced back to him with a nod. “I think the chances of survivors in this area is low, but we should make a couple of circuits just to be safe.”

Gladio nodded, looking out over the waters, trying to reconcile what he saw with what he remembered. The wrath of the Hydraen was beyond the measure of anything he’d reckoned it to be.

They circled Altissia multiple times, navigating the water through the entire city, up around the government buildings and past the resort area called the cascades that Gladio hadn’t gotten to visit. There were no signs of life, no indications that anyone had survived past the initial departure. Between the Empire and Leviathan, Altissia and Accordo all were lost.

 

Gladio could only stare out over the water, remembering how there had been a fountain. Over that way, the Leveille. And up that way, past the Government buildings had been the altar, where Luna and Noct should have been married, but where Luna had instead awoken a god and changed Eos forever. He wasn’t crying. It was water in his face from the wind.

At last, Cor conceded, and turned the boat back around for Lucis. There was nothing left in Altissia but ruins and painful memory.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Almost as soon as Gladio and Cor returned to Galdin Quay, they picked up calls on their radios. Hammerhead was under attack from waves of daemons coming out of Insomnia. Wordless, they moored the boat and left the supplies as they were, each man heading for his own vehicle and making haste to get north and assist.

The battles were grueling, strange creatures that had far more power than any others of their kinds. Flan as big as trucks, and bombs that grew to the size of ten men before exploding into a dozen that could do it all again. They weren’t winning. Prompto had expended all of his bullets, and Cindy had put a call out for any nearby hunters to come in and help Hammerhead stand.

They fought for hour after hour, exhaustion starting to set in when the red jumpship captained by Aranea Highwind finally arrived, bringing with it not only her men, but the fiercest demon hunter to come out of Meldacio: Iris Amicitia. She, like Noctis, used any and all weapons she could get her hands on, though she favored lance and daggers like Ignis.

After those two arrived with the band of fresh fighters, the battles turned to the favor of the hunters once again. Gladio had woken from an exhausted stupor when his sister kicked his boot and knelt in front of him. “Hey, Gladdy. Do me a favor?” At his grunt, she grinned. “Don’t die.”

He was too tired to do much but stagger to his feet and limp back to Hammerhead’s safety zone, where the medics took over. Iris joined other reconnaissance teams, and Gladio spotted her and Prompto occasionally bringing back an injured hunter. Eventually, Gladio was given a pass and was told to rest a few days to recover from his injuries.

Resting wasn’t something Gladio did well, but someone had left a book behind, and even though he’d read it before, he stretched out on top of the diner’s roof and settled back to read it again. It had been a while since he’d just sat back to read, and it felt damned good. He missed relaxing, and only because he’d read the book, did he find himself putting it down and looking out into the darkness, contemplating his apologies.

First, he’d apologize to Prompto. He needed to start again, acknowledge that he had been way over the line, that it wasn’t really how he saw the younger man. And then, whatever came after, he’d accept. If Prompto didn’t want to talk to him, he’d give the man space and go up to Lestallum and take whatever Ignis dished out. Cor had given some advice, but it had been clear the man wasn’t going to feed him what he should say. That needed to come from Gladio himself.

Three days later, Gladio was in a watchtower with Prompto, mentally sorting out the words he needed to say. But before Gladio could open his mouth, Prompto spoke. “So… uh, how’s it been going with you and Cor? Guess you’ll be making the rounds back down to Caem shortly?” His voice was falsely light, the way someone spoke when they weren’t sure of the situation.

Who the hell was he kidding? Prompto didn’t want to talk to him. Gladio wanted to say something, but the only thing he could get out of his mouth was a non-committal “Yup.” He had to keep watch on his side, so he couldn’t even turn around and catch Prompto’s eye to see how the blond truly felt. Gladio knew then what hell was. Hell was wanting to make things right and being so inept he couldn’t figure out how to start.

“So… Altissia. I guess it was pretty bad, huh?”

Six bless Prompto, but that wasn’t anything that Gladio wanted to remember. It all went to hell in Altissia and Gladio never truly came back. It occurred to him that maybe none of them had. “Looked that way.” His mind raced, he needed to say something, needed to open his mouth and spit words out in some fashion that would make sense. Damn, was this how Noct felt? Little wonder the prince had looked awkward and uncomfortable when he was trying to say what was on his mind. Gladio would never pick on him about that again.

He blinked, realizing that Prompto was speaking again, the young man’s voice hard. “We aren’t good. Probably never will be. I get that. Hell, I understand it. I’m not good with Gralea either. How it went down… that was wrong. And you can be as pissed with me as you want. I can take it.” What? He didn’t want to be pissed with Prompto. At least, not like that.

“But stop shutting Ignis out. He doesn’t deserve that. Shut me out, that’s cool, man. But Ignis didn’t do anything to warrant your anger other than to say what he thought.” Prompto took a deep breath, but Gladio couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “So quit being pissed at him for having an opinion.”

Prompto pressed on, and Gladio closed his mouth. “And when Noctis comes back? Because he will come back. I’ll be here. And we’ll all join forces and do what needs to be done. For Noct. After that? Don’t much care.” Gladio sighed and hung his head. Prompto had a full head of steam and Gladio couldn’t bring himself to raise voice against the blond. “But when Noct comes back, he’ll never know from me that you and I aren’t good. Understand?”

Gladio swallowed hard around that lump in his throat. “Yeah,” And perhaps it was dereliction of duty, but he couldn’t stay in that tower anymore. His stomach heaved, and he found himself fleeing down the tower stairs, moving swiftly past someone standing underneath, and around behind Takka’s where he brought up bitter bile and prayed to the Six that it all would end soon.

Of course it ended in another battle, because that was how Gladio’s life worked in Lucis now. Fight with those who had been friends, then fight with enemies. And somewhere deep inside, Gladio was okay with it. He deserved it, after all. In his mind, it was penance.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Gladio had gone back to Caem, and then put his next trip to Hammerhead off for as long as he possibly could, but the truck needed work and the last time he’d tried to do a repair, Cindy had spent almost as much time hitting him with a towel as she had fixing the thing that Gladio had tried to do himself. And though Cindy might be tiny, she was a right terror when angry. He’d seen her pick up a wrench and damn near beat a marshmallow to death to rescue a hunter. Scary.

Hammerhead was busy when Gladio arrived, and Cindy waved him over, shaking her head. “It’s gonna be a while before I can get to the truck, Gladio, you think you can stay here for a bit?” She pushed up her well-worn cap and looked to him, the ever-present smudges of oil on her face adding to her charm.

“Yeah,” he said, looking around at the people moving about. “What’s going on?” It looked like carefully organized chaos, people off to the side, trying to lift something large and flat by makeshift pulley. “You having work done on the building or something?”

“Pawpaw’s come back and we need more room, so the boys over there are putting up an addition. Should be up before it’s quiet time, so don’t you worry about a thing for sleeping.” Cindy said, frowning as Gladio turned to walk towards them. “You don’t have to help you know,” she called to him.

He lifted a hand in understanding, and walked over to the group of men raising what he could now identify as a corrugated metal wall. “You guys need some extra hands? Put me where you need me.” And with that, Gladio was moved up to the roof, pulling the ropes to lift the wall while the men below steadied it.

Three hours later, the walls were up and others were putting the roof together. Strangers slapped him on the back as he headed to the diner, and he waved them off, chuckling. It hadn’t been much what he did, but it had helped, and that had made him feel good. He missed being a part of something, and working with the men raising the walls had only reminded him how alone he was.

  
It was with that thought in his head that he walked into the diner and came to a stop, the door bumping into him, when he saw Ignis standing there. Ignis. Tall and as proper as ever, dark glasses in place, gloves on his hands, looking very much unchanged from five years ago in Lestallum. It hurt Gladio for a moment, but then he sucked it up and walked over to the other man. “Ignis…”

He waited until the other man turned towards him, and then Gladio risked his life, taking Ignis’ hand and drawing it to his chest. “Ignis, I am sorry. I am so damned sorry. I crossed lines, screwed up, did everything wrong and if you want to hate me, then I’ll accept that.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head over the stunned man’s hand now flat on his chest. “I just… I’m a poor Shield to try and defend anything, let alone my own actions.”

There was silence, and then came that soft sound that meant Ignis had exhaled through his nose in an effort to wordlessly express himself. “Gladiolus,” Ignis said softly. “I forgave you years ago. I simply didn’t get the chance to say.” To Gladio’s surprise, Ignis stepped in to his personal space, bringing his free arm around his shoulder in a half-hug. “Dumb behemoth.” It was said fondly, and Gladio had to fight the tears in his eyes.

From the back of the diner, came a voice. “Oh hey, it’s Gladio!” Talcott’s excitement rippled through the diner, and before Gladio could quite get his bearings, Ignis had stepped back and hunters were moving around, thanking him for lighting Taelpar and Caem. Gladio was appreciative, but his real focus needed to be Ignis. After a couple of glances towards the other man, Talcott caught on, and whispered something in Ignis’ ear. Ignis, ever practical, simply cleared his throat and called over the others. “Gladiolus, a moment if you would.”

Saved from the awkwardness of the moment, Gladio moved through the hunters to join Ignis at a table, sitting and watching as the others moved away once Ignis had seated himself. “Nothing quite like the open privacy of eating a meal,” Ignis said, and Talcott grinned at the bigger man before heading off to get some food.

“Iggy… I’m an idiot,” Gladio started, but paused when he saw that knowing smile curve his companion’s lips ever so slightly. He didn’t stop, though. He knew what he needed to say, and by Shiva, he was going to say it. “And you say I’m forgiven, but you still call me Gladiolus. And that sounds so… formal. So distant.”

He looked up, watching Ignis’ face as the other contemplated for a moment, and then right as Gladio’s heart began to shift again, Ignis spoke. “Gladio… was Noct’s name for you. After we returned, it hurt too much to say it, and that hurt you in turn. I apologize for not realizing. Seems we both had our own parts in hurting each other.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“To be honest, for five minutes in Tenebrae, I did.”

Silence fell as Talcott brought out water to drink and bowls filled with an assortment of fish and fungi. He headed off with a thump of his fist to Gladio’s shoulder, and the two set to eating. “Kid cooks almost as good as you.”

“I may have had a hand in his education,” Ignis allowed. “So bring me up to speed, Gladio. Tell me everything.”

 

So, as with Cor, Gladio started talking. He picked things up from where he started in Caem, leaving nothing out. It took hours, and wasn’t helped by Ignis’ inserted queries, but in the end, Gladio felt the better for having told his old friend everything, including the words that Prompto had said to him in the tower. And Gladio told Ignis much the same. When Noct returned, Gladio had no intentions of letting it be known that anything had happened.

  
Gladio camped that night at Cotisse Haven, surprised when Ignis joined him, and for the first time in nine years, it was almost familiar, like old times.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

 

 

 

 

Gladio wasn't surprised when Prompto turned up; he'd been expecting it. The blond was assigned to Hammerhead, after all, even if he had been sent out on a reconnaissance mission to Ravatogh in order to scout around and see what the daemons were doing. It wasn't unexpected for the younger man to return.Anything else was unthinkable

They'd tried to smooth over the relationship, but though Prompto was cordial and easy with Ignis, he disconnected when Gladio interacted. He'd plastered a smile on his face and pretended to be accepting of Gladio's presence. Ignis almost believed, or at least he pretended. Gladio didn't.

And maybe Gladio shouldn't have pressed Prompto, shouldn't have baited him as he had in the front lot of the diner, just in front of the RV, but Gladio couldn't figure out any way to make Prompto talk to him otherwise. So he had said some things designed to annoy Prompto, then headed into territory that he really knew better than to tread when finally, finally, Prompto turned to snap at him.

Gladio stood there, waiting while Prompto raged, arms at his side, a faint smile on his lips. To which Prompto finally gave Gladio the opening he was looking for. "And if you don't wipe that smug smirk off your face, Gladio, I swear to the Six-"

"You'll do what, Prompto? What you should have done in Gralea? Do it. Get your weapon out and do it." Gladio growled, the threat clear in his voice. He swallowed when Prompto did summon a pistol, cock and aim it at him, and then the bigger man moved closer, reaching out to grip the hand with the weapon and point it at his heart. "Shoot here." He moved Prompto's hand, raising the muzzle of the gun to his forehead. "And then here. No doubts, no hesitations."

Blue eyes went wide, something flickering across Prompto's face, but he said nothing. He didn't pull away from Gladio, and it was a simple motion for Gladio to lower Prompto's gun once more to his chest, voice softer. "If it will put an end to the hatred, the anger, then do it and let me go." Gladio dropped to his knees, his hand still on the muzzle, keeping it aligned with his heart as he moved.

Gladio waited for a heartbeat, and then lowered his hands. He bowed his head, offering a prayer to Noctis. I'm sorry, Noct. I broke things and it's only right that my sacrifice fix it. Forgive me for not being a better Shield. He closed his eyes, and waited for the pistol to make the last sound he'd hear.

Nothing happened. 

The weapon at his chest dissolved into blue crystalline light, and Prompto's right fist smacked into Gladio's jaw with impressive force. "You asshole. Haven't you punished me enough?" Another punch, this one to his pectoral, equally as painful. "Haven't you punished yourself enough?" Prompto's voice was breaking and Gladio's eyes wouldn't open. They felt glued shut.

Hands, Prompto's hands, on his shoulders, gripping painfully hard. "I don't want you dead, you asshole. I just wanted you to stop taking it out on me." Another hand fell on his head, and Gladio felt Prompto start. Neither of them had heard the arrival.

"I think, perhaps, it is time we all had a heart to heart." Ignis said quietly, that gentle tone of his that meant he would accept nothing than absolute obedience. Even when he'd used it on Noctis, it had worked, and it worked on Gladio and Prompto both.

 

 

 

That was the first night the three of them had sat around a campfire together in years, talking. And when they fell asleep, it was with a better clarity of how they fit together, even without Noctis in the middle.

 

And then Noctis was back, taller, older, his hair longer, his eyes dark with a strangely glittering power. He had facial hair, too, and that was what struck Gladio the most. Noct had grown up. To be fair, so had the rest of them, but they were used to seeing themselves grow and change. It put things in a far sharper perspective when they saw Noctis. Time had passed.

“Gladio, damn, guess I don't need to maintain the Wall… you are the Wall.” Noctis joked, thumping the man on the chest. “I didn't think it was possible for you to get bigger, but you did.”Noctis laughed at the bizarre situation, and shook his head “This is so screwed up, you know? I was Gralea, and now, here I am in Hammerhead, ten years have passed, and I’ve missed all of these things where I should have been supporting you.”

“Not your fault, Noct,” Gladio replied, resisting the urge to reach out and ruffle Noct’s hair. “As you said, it wasn't like you asked for this.” He looked Noctis over, dark eyes taking in the strange juxtaposition of youthful prince in a King’s form. “And I'm glad you spat it out back there. Damn sorry you had to, but I'm glad you did.”

Noct shrugged. “Didn't say everything. Still can't. It's hard to wrap my brain around it.” He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “It's still too much, you know? Tell me what I've missed, bring me up to speed?”

So Gladio did, holding nothing back, and then they headed for Insomnia, four men on a mission.

 

They stood at the stairs, saluting their King, their friend. Gladio warred with himself, struggling to align the function of being Shield against allowing the man he was supposed to protect to go throw himself into death. It was a necessary act. And those were words he repeated to himself as he turned towards the Iron Giants, summoned his broadsword and charged into battle.

He knew the pulse of power for what it was, knew it was the moment the King, Noctis, fell. He had expected it, guarded himself for it. What he hadn't anticipated was the power to wash over them and unsettle Ignis. Distracted, the blind man stumbled, and an Iron Giant took advantage, slashing its blade across the Advisor, felling him instantly.

“Ignis, Ignis!” Prompto screamed, firing his pistols directly into the face of the Iron Giant. Between the point blank ammunition and the rising of the sun, it didn't stand a chance. And then Prompto was on his knees next to Ignis, silent tears falling, and the world cast away its shadow.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that got off to a roaring start.


End file.
